Scarecrow and Mrs King: Out on Birol
by Daniel Sullivan
Summary: Addi Birol strikes back, free after thirty one years! Just started writing this follow up to Nightcrawler. Takes place present day, and the former Karbalah operative is obsessed with vengeance on the agent who took him down - Lee Stetson.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

After thirty years, Addi Birol was free. He was a broken shadow of a man, but he was free. The United States would never have let him go, but during a prisoner transfer, the bus was hijacked, and all of the prisoners turned loose except Addi himself. Birol was taken, and a bag pulled over his head.

At first, he thought he was going to be killed, but when the bag came off, he was surrounded by a group of his countrymen. Young men, all of them fellow Saudis like himself, stood around him smiling.

"Addi Birol," one of them said in Arabic, "It is an honor to finally meet you. I am Majid Boutros, the leader of Karbalah."

Addi's eyes widened at this. That the leader of Karbalah was no more than a child was unthinkable. "How … old are you, Majid?"

"Twenty two," the young man replied. "We are … all that is left. My father was the last senior member, but he died fighting the Americans in Afghanistan after our brothers destroyed the Trade Towers. We were hoping that you, esteemed fighter in the cause, might help us rebuild, that we may take the fight against the Great Satan to America's shores, and strike against them on their own soil."

It warmed Addi's heart to know that the young had not given up on Karbalah, but if this was all that was left …

"Majid, how many of us are there?"

"We are all that remain of Karbalah."

Addi was afraid of that. But, he was free. And he had just the plan to put Karbalah back on the map … and to make the architects of his imprisonment pay dearly. He would start with those most directly responsible for his fall: Lee Stetson and Mara Petrak. And he knew just who to use as bait …


	2. Chapter 2

**International Federal Film, the secret headquarters of the Agency …**

Amanda Stetson sat behind the large desk, pondering the life she now led. Thirty-three years ago, Lee had come into her life, and she had been drawn into the agency, partnered with Lee under the watchful eye of Billy Melrose. Those were not simpler times, by any means, but they were happy times. Philip and Jamie were young, her mother was still alive; in middle age, and still vital, and Francine Desmond was insanely jealous of Amanda being partnered with Lee.

Now, her mother and Billy were gone, taken by the passage of time. Two funerals after which Amanda thought she would never stop crying. But Lee got her through those times. He had turned down Billy's job when it was offered, and instead, recommended Amanda.

Now, Amanda sat behind Billy's desk, and Lee had retired mere days ago, still America's top agent. She missed seeing her husband at work, but she loved coming home to him. Besides, he had earned his retirement. Lee stayed in the field until he was deemed too old, and was essentially made to retire. Lee would never take a desk job; he was a field agent through and through. Amanda was sad for him—forced retirement would just about kill her, but Lee was actually proud. Lee swore he would never sit behind a desk—he'd die in the line of duty, or be forced to retire, either due to age or injury.

In truth, Lee was on vacation—he opted to use up his vacation rather than be paid out, so technically, Amanda could call upon him if a situation arose that required his skills. As a result, Lee was wandering about town with an agency wireless and a Glock 23 pistol—just in case Amanda needed him in a hurry.

In truth, Amanda did not fully believe that he was all that pleased, but he put on a brave face at least. With Lee gone, Amanda considered retiring now, rather than wait until next year, but Lee told her to reap the rewards she had so richly earned. Francine had been bitter about not getting Billy's old post, and had retired shortly after Amanda became section chief, which meant that none of the old crew remained. It was just Amanda and a bunch of young agents. They were all good, but they lacked any personality or originality. It was as though they were all cardboard cutouts.

Amanda chuckled at this. Maybe Lee really was happier—they had their daughter, Dorothy, a year after they married, and this week, Dorothy had taken the week off to "hang out with Dad." Lee was looking at getting a new Corvette as a retirement present to himself, and Dorothy wanted to tag along, no doubt angling to obtain Lee's vintage Vette.

The section chief's schedule alert sounded, interrupting her musings. It was time for Mrs. Stetson to attend the day's security briefing. _Hopefully_ , she thought, _it will be another quiet day_.

 **Elsewhere, at Jerry's Chevrolet …**

Lee and Dorothy Stetson looked at the new 2017 Corvette Z-06. It would probably be his last new Corvette, so he wanted to pull out all the stops. He had the money to buy the expensive car, and intended to keep his old 1984 Corvette—Dorothy had wanted the old Vette since she was old enough to know what a Corvette was, and was lobbying heavily. She had bought him lunch, and was planning to buy him ice cream after they left the dealership.

"It looks great, Dad! It's like … just wow!"

Lee nodded. "It does look good."

The salesman smiled, nodding vigorously. "Of course, Mister Stetson. This car really has what it takes to …"

"Save the speech," Lee said abruptly, handing the salesman his license. "Let the car do the talking. If I like what she says, I'll wire you the money."

The salesman's eyes bulged, and then he scurried away to copy Lee's license and set up a test drive.

Dorothy looked at him quizzically. "She?"

"Yup. A good car is like a good lady," he explained. "Treat her right, and she'll get you out of the tight spots."

Dorothy just nodded as the salesman returned with Lee's license, demo release forms, and a dealer tag.

"Go ahead and fill these out, Mister Stetson, and I'll bring the car around for you to drive."

Moments later, the salesman returned with the silver Z-06 Corvette. The car was certainly more powerful than his old '84. He recalled how overpowering that Corvette of his was compared to his old '63 Porsche 356 – a difference of over a hundred horsepower.

The Z-06, on the other hand, had six hundred and fifty stock horsepower, making the stock two hundred and five horse 1984 Vette look anemic. This car was ordered in by the owner with a myriad of performance upgrades, bringing the total to over seven hundred. Even with Lee's comprehensive upgrades, bringing his old car to three hundred horsepower, there was no comparison. The Z-06 was vastly improved in every other area as well, boasting far better chassis dynamics, handling, and its transmission and drivetrain making the most of the engine's incredible power. By the time the mods he planned on ordering were installed, the new car would be pushing over seven hundred horses. Lee figured that would keep him happy for the next ten to twenty years.

The salesman instructed Lee to take the car down Route Seven East and to get on Route Four-Ninety-Five South.

"Go ahead, Lee—may I call you Lee?—open her up!"

Lee looked at him dubiously. "Open her up … on Four-Ninety-Five … seriously?"

The salesman nodded. Lee looked out, and traffic was light. _Oh, what the hell_ , he thought. Lee disengaged the traction control, downshifted, and put the pedal down, unleashing over seven hundred supercharged horses. The tail went sideways for a moment as the car broke the rear end loose, and when it hooked up, it pinned the two of them to the seat. Lee power-shifted into second, chirping the rear tire, enjoying the salesman going pale. He power-shifted again, passing the hundred mile an hour mark, and chirping the rear tire again.

"She chirps second _and_ third!" Lee liked this.

The salesman laughed nervously at Lee's comment. Suddenly, Lee spun the car, pulling a U-Turn on the access way between the inner and outer loop, now taking the car back up to Route Seven at over a hundred and twenty-five. Once on Route Seven West, Lee and the car felt frustrated by the lights and congestion until they got out towards Leesburg. Lee then maintained a brisk hundred mile an hour clip until they came up on the dealership.

He pulled into the dealership driveway hot, engine roaring, pulled a three-sixty, and slammed it into reverse, backing the car into a waiting space, and bringing it to a halt. "She's fast … and I even like the color. Let's do it."

The salesman smiled, and then ran from the car, into the dealership. Lee followed at a leisurely pace, meeting Dorothy on the way. His daughter's mouth was wide open and her eyes were as big as saucers. She had been outside to see him pull that insane maneuver.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"Did some stunt driving for International Federal Film back in the day …"

"That was not nice, Dad," she scolded. "That poor man …"

Lee shrugged. "He insisted on riding along. Besides, he's making a hundred and twenty-thousand dollar sale. I just made his week. If he can't handle an upset stomach …."

Dorothy shot him a stern look as they entered the dealership. The salesman was nowhere to be seen, so Lee took a seat by the man's desk with his daughter. The salesman soon returned, a queasy look on his face, but when he sat across from them, he smiled.  
"You said you want to buy the car …"

"Yes," Lee confirmed. "I'll wire the money right now."

The salesman's eyes went wide. "I … thought you were kidding."

"Nope. I don't finance anything, Mister Jay—I'd rather not pay interest if I can avoid it. Besides, I'm sixty seven. I'd rather not be paying on a car note into my seventies. I want to enjoy my retirement, you know."

The salesman smiled. "Then let's get you on the road, Mister Stetson."

 **Back at the Agency …**

Amanda was shaking following the security brief. Addi Birol had been broken out of prison, and was putting Karbalah back together. Mara Petrak was almost certainly in danger, likely Magda as well. Also, Birol had seen Francine when her disguise as Magda Petrak had come apart. It was a long shot, but if he connected Francine to the fake Magda, then she would be in danger as well. But without a doubt, Birol would be gunning for Lee and Amanda. Why now? Of all times, why now? She shook her head. I did not matter—Birol needed to be dealt with, and Lee was probably still the best man for the job.


	3. Chapter 3

Lee was not pleased to be called in from his vacation for "one last mission," but at the same time, it made him smile in spite of himself. He looked at the old Corvette in the driveway, his daughter washing it as though it were buried treasure she had just unearthed. The old car was a relic from another era. Though it was at an age and mileage when most cars were retired, either to be someone's vintage car trophy if it was lucky, or more likely to be junked, the old Vette had a new mission for the young woman Lee and Amanda had raised. _I'm like that old car_ , he thought. _I may be a relic from the Cold War, but I've still got something to give_. He only wished that Amanda could be his partner on this last job.

Chuckling, he went outside and joined his daughter. "Come on, Dorothy—let's take her for a spin."

"Dad—I just cleaned her up!"

"We'll get the neighbor's teens to wash her again," he laughed. "Come on. Let's get the roof into the back and let your old man take her for one last joyride with his daughter. Besides, your mother needs my attention on one last project before I'm officially off IFF's payrole."

"What? You don't want to take me for a spin in that six hundred horse monster you just bought?"

He smiled and said, "Six-fifty; and with the performance parts options, she's up over seven hundred, right where she oughta be."

Dorothy tossed him the keys. "Alright dad; one last ride." She giggled when her dad's face lit up, and then unlatched the passenger side of the top, her dad unlatching the driver's side. "Let's just put it in the garage," she offered. "It's not supposed to rain."

Her father smiled back at her. "Yeah, Dotty—let's do that!"

Dorothy shot him a scolding look. "Please don't call me Dotty, Dad. Makes me think of that critter on Animaniacs when I was a kid."

"Yeah; she was the cute one, remember?"

"I know, but I like being Dorothy. Grandma totally rocked the Dotty thing. Let me rock the Dorothy thing. Okay?"

Her father held up his hands, smiling innocently. "Okay, okay," he laughed. "Now come on. On the way there, we've got a mission to undertake—Starbucks will never know what hit 'em."

Dorothy giggled getting into the car, buckling herself in. Her dad belted himself into the driver's seat, and reverently wrapped his left hand around the steering wheel, and placed his right hand on the shifter. He was still for a long moment, and then he started the car.

The performance exhaust system he had installed made the car bark authoritatively, and she imagined that like his new car, he had done some work to this one. She had seen him surprise more than a few late model Mustangs and Camaros, and even a few newer Corvettes. He put the car into gear, and gently rolled the car out of the driveway.

"Hi-ho silver," he said with a laugh, putting the car into first gear and driving away from the house.

 **Meanwhile …**

Mara Petrak awoke groggily. As her head cleared, she realized that she was bound to a chair, a blindfold around her eyes. She gathered her wits, trying to piece together how she had gotten into this position in the first place. Mara had been getting into her car … that was all she could remember. Her head throbbed, but she did not feel as though she had been struck. Then she remembered the hand covering her mouth with a cloth right before she got into her car—chloroform, she realized.

"You awaken, my traitorous friend."

"Addi Birol," she said.

She felt a hand take hold of the blindfold and remove it. Mara was face to face with Addi Birol, but he was not the one to remove the blindfold. Birol was surrounded by a group of younger men and women, one of whom stood behind her and had removed the blindfold.

"Yes, Mara Petrak. We meet again."

Addi had aged surprisingly well. His thick curly hair was cut shorter, and had a gray sheen to it, lending an air of sophistication. But the fanaticism in his eyes was undimmed with the passage of time, no doubt fanned by his young compatriots. Beside him was a bucket with the handle of a paint brush protruding from the top.

"Rebuilding Karbalah?" She asked the question neutrally.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Karbalah will rise from the ashes, like the phoenix, and will return more powerful than ever! I will have my revenge on the American agent who destroyed Karbalah: Lee Stetson, and you, Mara Petrak, will help me."

"I will do no such thing," she countered. "You may kill me, but I will not do your bidding. You're a monster."

Addi just chuckled. "You labor under the misunderstanding that I need you to do more than just talk. Stetson will learn of your kidnapping, and with the help of Amanda King, they will find you soon enough. In the meantime, I will find out all that you actually know." He took the paint brush from the bucket as the man behind her held her head in place. She closed her eyes, but it did not matter; whatever chemical he had dipped the brush in penetrated her pours and her eyes. The blindfold was put back around her head before she passed out.

 **Leaving Starbucks …**

Lee lamented that the Perfect Cup at White Flint mall was gone, but Starbucks had those blended drinks that had not existed back then. Dorothy and he had picked up their frappuccinos, and were happily caffeinating themselves as they motored to IFF. Dorothy was still gushing about the car, and proposing all manner of fun things for her and her father to do now that he was retired. He was certain that Amanda had put her up to it, worried that Lee would be miserable without something to do. He chuckled to himself. _She's probably right_ , he thought.

"And Dad, there's there this carnival we used to go to when I was little. I was thinking …"

Lee slowly placed his drink back into the cup holder, looking intently into the rearview mirror at the SUV behind them. He held his hand up to interrupt her as the passenger in the SUV leaned out the window, trying to get a bead on them with a pistol.

"Dad? Are you alright?"

"Sorry, ol' girl," Lee said to the car, patting the dash. "You've got one last chase before you can enjoy retirement."

"Dad?" Dorothy looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and worry. Her expression changed to outright alarm when he drew his Glock. "Oh my God! Dad! That's … that's a gun!"

"Remember when I said your mother and I were filmmakers and I was a stunt coordinator?"

Dorothy nodded, her eyes wide. "Yes."

"It's a cover. I'm a spy."

With that, he spun the wheel, downshifting and pressing the accelerator hard, spinning the car around, and then shifting into reverse, returning fire, and hitting the gunman in the head. He fired again, putting one through the windshield, taking out the driver. The SUV swerved, and then lost control, rolling over several times before striking a utility pole. Lee spun the Vette back around, and put it into gear, spinning tires as he took off. Before Dorothy could speak, he activated the car's wireless phone, retrofitted with digital technology by the agency to operate on modern networks.

"Amanda, Dorothy and I were en-route when an SUV came up behind us, gunman hanging out the window."

" _Oh my God, Lee! Is Dorothy …_ "

"She's fine; I did a one-eighty and took out the gunman and the driver, but I had to break it to her—we're spies. This wouldn't by chance be related to that last mission you wanted me to come in about, would it?"

" _Lee, Mara Petrak is missing. Addi Birol has escaped_."

"Understood. Tell Leatherneck that Scarecrow is incoming, and needs outfitting pronto."

" _You've got it, Lee. And Lee … I love you_."

"Love you too, Amanda. And don't worry—I'll keep our daughter safe."

"I know you will, Lee. I know you will. Just … get here as soon as you can."


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh my God!"

Dorothy could not get over what she had just seen. Her father had just killed two men as casually as when he handed the cashier at Starbucks his credit card. Of course, knowing this detail—that her parents were spies—made a lot of other pieces fall into place. Strange conversations between her parents, sudden departures, and both parents being extraordinarily worried for each other when one or the other was away, supposedly shooting documentaries. Usually, it was her father who was away, but occasionally, her mother was away, and on rarer occasions, both were away, leaving her in the care of her half-brothers, Phillip and Jamie. She wondered if they knew.

"Sorry, Dorothy," her father said as they pulled into the garage. "You were never supposed to know, and certainly not like that. Even your brothers don't know, so please, don't say anything. This is a confidence you need to keep."

She nodded, knowing that he probably was not permitted to tell her. "Please just tell me everything will be okay."

"It will," he said. "But I've called in a favor from an old friend; I know you took off from work to hang out with me, so take advantage of your vacation and go to this address." He took her phone and entered an address on her note pad. "Pack lightly, but enough for three days or so."

"Dad, this is in Ocean City! And who's Francine Desmond?"

"An agent like me. She's retired, and she's really steamed with me right now, but if you tell her that Addi Birol is back, she'll understand."

"Why is she steamed with you?"

"Because I recommended your mother to a job that I didn't want, and thought Francine was being groomed for the position above. Then they shafted her, put in some young buck who didn't have half her experience, and gave your mother the position below. Whole thing was a disaster, and the agency should be ashamed for what they did to her, but Francine still blames me." He shook his head, and then added, "But she won't turn you away, especially not when she hears that Addi is on the loose."

Dorothy nodded again. "I'll get packed and leave right away." Then she hugged her father. "Please, Dad, you be careful, and take care of mom!"

"I will, honey—I promise."

 **At the agency …**

Amanda sat nervously, looking across her desk at the agent with whom Lee was to be working; Alexa Danton, a young, rising star in the agency. Amanda liked her—the woman was like a younger, female version of Lee. Alexa's shoulder length dark hair, parted slightly to the left, bright eyes, and a bright, but slightly cocky smile all reminded Amanda of what Lee was like when she had first met him. Her dislike for working with partners also reminded Amanda of Lee.

Unlike Lee, Alexa was very tech dependent. Where Lee had learned to do his job without the benefit of computers, but integrated new technologies into his repertoire, building on a solid foundation, Alexa did not have the same foundation upon which to build.

Amanda looked at the confident young agent, and hoped that this would not be a problem: Alexa was relatively untested, and the information Amanda had obtained made her wish that there was a more seasoned agent to pair Lee with, but time being what it was, Alexa was at the moment, the best agent in the nest.

"Ma'am," Alexa said, "I don't know why you insist on pairing me with another agent. I work better solo, and I'm the top agent in the nest right now. Time is of the essence, and we can't afford to carry an inexperienced agent on this one."

"You're absolutely right," Amanda said, her voice raised an octave, as though Alexa had just expressed some great revelation. Alexa smiled, not catching Amanda's sarcasm. "That's why you're being paired with the agency's top agent."

"Top agent … but I …"

The door opened, Lee Stetson strode in. His hair was silver, and his face a little craggier than it had been all those years ago, but the sheer charisma of the man still made Amanda's heart leap.

"You'll be working with me, Ms. Danton," Lee said authoritatively. "I hear great things about you—looking forward to it." Lee extended a hand, but rather than shake his hand, Alexa's mouth dropped open, and she looked at Amanda pleadingly.

"You can't be serious, Mrs. Stetson! Your husband's retired!"

"Not for twelve more days," Amanda declared. "Till then, he's on vacation, but like any agent, when duty calls, he's expected to answer."

Agent Danton crossed her arms and pouted. "Fine. What's the mission?"

Amanda smiled. "I thought you'd never ask, Agent Danton." She activated the large flatscreen monitor behind her desk, showing a map of Washington D.C. Taking on a more serious tone, Amanda continued. "At 06:00 this morning, we confirmed that Karbalah has obtained the materials needed to make a nuclear bomb." Lee stood impassively, while Danton's eyes widened. "They intend to detonate said bomb on U.S. soil; our sources say that Washington D.C. is the most likely target. Their intent is to build a dirty bomb, not a level the city. Now, this resurgent Karbalah is being led by this man."

Amanda clicked her remote, and the image on the screen changed from the map to an image of a Saudi man in his sixties. "This is Addi Birol. He was a Karbalah agent back in the eighties. Lee, Agent Desmond, and I spent two years dismantling Karbalah's organization in the U.S., and finally put Birol away. Last week, he escaped while being transported to a new facility."

"Birol will be thirty years out of practice, and thirty years without communication from the outside," Lee noted. "But Karbalah had to have an inside person to both tell them where Birol was, when he would be transferred, and what the rout was."

Amanda nodded. "We've captured the mole in question. He spouted the usual—our people are oppressed, we're fighting for freedom, America is evil, blah, blah, blah. This guy grew up in Iowa, and has never left the U.S. His father is an orthodontist, and his mother a schoolteacher. But I guess growing up in the free world only makes him feel more oppressed."

"We've seen this before," Lee noted. "Recruitment of Muslims in middle America. They get these kids when they're in their teens and early twenties, when kids tend to be rebellious, and take advantage of them."

"That's exactly what happened," Amanda confirmed. "He was recruited through Facebook."

"Has he given up the location of Birol?" Danton asked. "And have we applied enhanced interrogation to him?"

"No, and no," Amanda replied. "We've let him go, faking not having enough evidence to hold him. He was confused, but happy, not knowing that he's been microchipped. Now, another matter …"

Amanda clicked a button, and Mara Petrak's image appeared on the screen. "This woman, Mara Petrak, is part of Lee's family, codename Nightcrawler. She was instrumental in our bringing down Birol thirty years ago. She's gone missing, and we have every reason to believe that she's been kidnapped in an attempt to lure us out."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Danton said, "the nuke is the bigger threat. Petrak may just have to end up collateral damage."

"No," Amanda said sternly. "That's not how this department works. Now, here's where it all intersects." Another map appeared on the screen, this one of the Westmoreland Industrial District in Rockville, Maryland. "Mara Petrak is microchipped too, likely not discovered by Karbalah as of yet. Her signal is coming from this location …" A red dot appeared on one of the buildings. "This is the best lead we have. Go in, get Petrak out, and take any Karbalah operatives alive if possible."

"No tall building nearby," Danton noted, "and not a lot of escape routes that we can't cover."

"I know," Amanda said. "However, satellite surveillance does not reveal any radioactive components. It's possible that they have them well shielded, but typically, there are signs of radioactive material, particularly with an operation as small as this new Karbalah, and none of those signs are there. It is possible that other components of the bomb are there, but you need to find all of it, and find the ones in their organization who are building it."

Amanda turned off the screen. "They've already made an attempt on Lee, so Birol is out for revenge. Let's use that against them. They almost certainly are using Petrak to draw Lee out, but they'll be expecting him to find her the old fashioned way, which takes time. They won't be expecting you two to show up with a team of agents. It happens at midnight tonight, so be ready."

"Yes, ma'am," Danton said.

"Good. Agent Danton, you're dismissed. Agent Stetson, I need to go over some things with you privately."

"Yes, ma'am," Danton replied, leaving Amanda's office.

As soon as agent Danton was gone, Amanda locked the door, and Lee took her in his arms, kissing her deeply.

"Thought I'd never get an opportunity to kiss you."

Amanda giggled. "You know, Lee, this office is soundproofed. We don't have a lot of time; an hour at most. I think I may need to give you a … performance evaluation." She began unbuttoning his shirt.

"You're the boss," Lee said, now working at the buttons on Amanda's blouse.

She giggled and kissed him, using her remote to dim the lights.


	5. Chapter 5

Alexa Danton sighed when she saw Stetson's car pull into the warehouse. The younger agent had hoped that maybe he would have begged off on account of an arthritic flare up, or shortness of breath, or some other ailment. Stetson was at an age where such things were not uncommon, but no such luck.

Lee Stetson's Corvette rumbled with power, its idle not smooth like any Corvette she had heard. Alexa imagined that whatever Lee had done to it had rendered it only semi-streetable. _Damn race car with tags_ , she thought. The warehouse they were using as an F.O.B. (forward operations base) was not brightly lit, and the silver car took on a more ominous look in the low lighting, its xenon headlamps piercing dim. When the lights were doused, the door opened, and Lee Stetson stepped out, standing to his full, six foot-two inch height.

For a man in his sixties, in this lighting, he reminded her more of James Bond stepping out of his exotic sports car than an agent on the verge of retirement. For an instant, she saw what Stetson's wife, their section chief, must have seen more than three decades ago, and smiled in spite of herself.

"Stetson," she said gruffly. "I see you made it."

Lee walked over and looked at the table with the warehouse floorplans.

"Satellite images show only one heat signature," she continued, "which is in the exact same location as Petrak's signal."

Stetson nodded. "I smell a trap."

"Me too," she agreed. "We've got twenty men—yes, we do have an explosives expert, as you requested—plus you and me."

"We go in first," Lee announced. "Have the troops take up position around the warehouse. Also, does the satellite imagery show anything that resembles a bomb?"

"No, which is why I was surprised at your insistence on an explosives expert."

"Can't get everything from satellite imagery," Lee explained. "Sometimes you've gotta go in and look. Now Mara is one my family. She helped me take down Birol thirty years ago, and I'm sure he's wanted revenge. I've got agents trying to locate her sister, Magda."

"Stetson, this guy is a washed-up loser with a bunch of kids calling themselves Karbalah," she said dismissively. "We should have this wrapped up by tomorrow evening."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Amanda said you were the best agent in the nest."

"Yeah, why?"

Lee shook his head. "Try to act like it. Come on—it's time."

Alexa made a face at him, but opted not to reply. Stetson was the senior agent, and so far, nothing he said was out of place. In fact, she kicked herself for not thinking of those things herself. She only hoped that he would not slow her down once the action started.

"Locked and loaded, Stetson. Let's move."

 **The team had surrounded the warehouse …**

… and Lee and Alexa moved in. They met no resistance outside, and went to one of the side doors to make gain entry. Agent Danton started moving hurriedly towards the door, but Lee grasped her arm, holding her in place. "Slow down, Danton," he hissed.

She shook his hand off. "What's the matter, old man? Can't keep up?"

"No, you idiot—there's something wrong! This is way too easy. The last time we tangled with Birol, the place was booby trapped." He shook his head in frustration. "Did you even read the mission brief? All that was in there!"

"Ultraviolet goggles and our eye in the sky, Stetson," she countered. "If there's any booby traps, we'll see them long before …"

"That's not how this works," he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "That's not how any of this works! Now follow me, and try not to get us killed!"

Lee did have his goggles, and he was not seeing anything either, but looks could be deceiving. He removed a canister and rolled it toward the door, smoke pouring from its now open valve.

"Come on," she insisted, but he held her arm again.

"Not yet—wait till the smoke clears."

"Then we lose our cover …"

"We're outside, Danton; it's not for cover." The smoke cleared, and now, the trip wires were illuminated by the spray from Lee's canister, brightly lit in their goggles. "Booby trapped, just like I thought."

Lee and Alexa clipped the wires, signaling the team once they made it to the door. Lee then checked the door. It was not locked. He wiped the handle with a cloth, and a tacky substance came off. He could smell the stuff eating at the cloth, and dropped it on the ground.

"That would have stuck to your glove, and by the time you figured it out, your hand would be burning," Lee scolded. "And who knows what those trip wires were rigged to set off. It's not about speed, Danton."

Alexa nodded, feeling humbled by the older agent. She was duly impressed by the things he turned up, things that she had not even thought to look for. Danton was beginning to see why the section chief had called her husband in from vacation for this one.

Stetson tossed what looked like a tennis ball into the room, and moments later, a loud 'pop' sounded. "There," he said, removing his smart phone. "That should have captured the interior."

She leaned in close to see what he had. "What was that?"

"See for yourself." He opened an app, and a three-sixty image of the room was presented on the screen, which he navigated at the touch of a fingertip. "Echolocation based imagery—there's Mara."

"Tied to a chair in the center of the room," Alexa noted.

"And there's all the trip wires," Lee added, rolling another smoke canister in. "Once that does its job, we'll be able to see them in our goggles. And there's what the tripwires activate." He pointed on the screen to a machinegun mounted on a tripod in the corner, rigged to spray the room in a ninety degree arc.

Five of the team members arrived, and Lee sent them in, where they proceeded to disarm all of the traps. Upon receiving the all clear, Lee and Alexa went to Mara, who was in the center of the room. Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Lee removed her gag, and the first thing she did was warn him to get out.

"He put me under … there's explosives inside me …" Her shirt glowed, lit by something underneath.

Alexa pulled it open, popping the buttons, and on Mara's stomach was the outline of a corded car-phone handset, just like what the Joker had rigged in the Batman movie.

"He can activate it with a cell phone," Mara warned.

"Already activated a scrambler," Lee said, holding up a box the size of a pack of cigarettes. "Bomb squad is coming in."

"You don't understand," the bound woman gasped. "It's on a timer too! He mounted a clock on the wall … wanted me see my time run out …"

"Less than a minute—no time for the bomb squad," Lee exclaimed, removing a knife. "I've done this once before, Mara, but it's going to hurt." Mara's eyes went wide as Lee balled up the gag and jammed it into her mouth. "Bite down on this."

Mara shrieked as Lee cut open the stitches that held Mara's stomach closed over the bomb, and removed the visible car-phone detonator. "Medics are on the way, Mara. I won't let you die, I promise!"

 **SMK**

Alexa was standing outside of the F.O.B. as Amanda Stetson's CTS-V wagon pulled up. The section chief got out, tall and slender, looking like a fashion model wrapped in a trench coat.

"How you holding up, kiddo?" The question was not condescending or demeaning.

Alexa smiled weakly. "I almost got us killed … twice. Thought I'd faint when he cut that detonator from Mara's stomach." She shook her head. "I don't know how your husband survived without modern equipment, Mrs. Stetson …"

"Please, Alex, call me Amanda—we always called my predecessor Billy. And to answer your question, Lee and I were a team. We looked out for each other, and were better together than either of us could have been on our own. Before that? I don't really know. He's the Scarecrow, Danton. That's the only answer I can give you."

"If you ask me, Amanda, he's the Wizard."

Amanda laughed. "The Wizard was Lee's mentor—long story for another day."

Danton laughed. "Guess that makes you Dorothy."

Amanda just shook her head. "Like I said; story for another day. Now, do you have any leads on the bomb?"

"None," Alexa replied dejectedly. "I guess it was too much to hope that it would be here, or that his computer, complete with his plans, would be here."

Lee walked over, kissing his wife's cheek. "Actually, we do have a lead, but it's a slim one."

Danton looked at Scarecrow incredulously. "How? There was nothing in there but …"

"Not what's in there," Lee noted. "Warehouse is owned by an Iman Fasil, who just happens to be on one of those many watch-lists. Now, sometimes, people are on those for spurious reasons, but in his case, he's got deep ties to some shady people—Al Qaeda shady in fact. We think he may be sympathetic to this new Karbalah. This warehouse was recently leased by a Majid Boutros, who also is leasing another one of Fasil's properties over in Bladensburg."

"Then our target is clear," Amanda declared. "We'll get satellite imagery and any intel we can on it. Meet at IFF at oh-six-hundred." Then she looked at Lee and winked. "I'll see you at home, Scarecrow."


	6. Chapter 6

**In an ocean front condo in Ocean City Maryland …**

Francine Desmond looked across the table at Dorothy Stetson, still perturbed. When she saw Lee's Corvette pull up, Francine was just about to tell her new boyfriend, Del, about the relationship with her former coworker when Del observed that there was a girl in the car. Del was younger than Francine by a little more than a decade, though he looked even younger than that, and she wanted to immediately quash the idea that she had ever had children, quickly explaining that Dorothy was the daughter of a couple from IFF.

Del seemed okay either way, but Francine had sent him home until she could sort out why Dorothy was here—Del could not find out about the Agency, and there were only but so many reasons Dorothy would arrive in Ocean City in Lee's old car. Francine kept her fingers crossed that this would not somehow throw a wrench in what looked to be a promising relationship.

The girl was semi-distraught, and apparently had been with Lee when someone started chasing them. She said that Lee had shot and killed their pursuers, and now, Dorothy knew about her parents' involvement in the Agency. But it was Dorothy's mention of Addi Birol that changed the dynamic. Birol had seen Francine, but presumably had not been able to identify her. On the other hand, he already knew who Amanda was, and had subsequently kidnapped her in order to get to Lee back in 1986.

Dorothy still sat across from Francine, a reminder of a failed relationship with the girl's father, and of Lee's subsequent professional betrayal of Francine. To make matters worse, Dorothy even looked a bit like a younger Amanda, albeit in a trendier, twenty eight year old wrapper.

"Thanks for letting me stay overnight," the girl offered, an Amanda-sweet smile on her face.

Francine nodded slightly. "Lee owes me big on this one. After what that scoundrel did …"

"Is this about the job my mom got?"

Dorothy should not know about that, but clearly she did. "What did Lee tell you?"

"He said you're really steamed at him …"

Francine laughed mirthlessly. "Steamed is not even close to the right word, young lady."

"He said he thought you were being put into a … Doctor Smith, I think it was … anyway, his position. He said that by the time he realized they'd screwed you, my mom was already in … whatever job it is she got."

"Section chief," Francine said with a sigh. "I suppose I _could_ believe that; I heard some rumors to that effect, when I asked about details, suddenly, nobody knew anything. But in the meantime, what am I supposed to do with you?"

"I could take you out Seacrets," Dorothy offered. "You could bring that biker dude you were with when I got here …."

"Del," Francine clarified. "He's not just some dude—he's my boyfriend."

"He's handsome … but he's got a lot of ink!"

"He's a local tattoo artist, Dorothy, but stay on topic—is there some reason you're not with … I don't know … Philip or Jamie?"

"Philip's in Estotia with Joe, and Jamie's doing photography in Paraguay for a travel magazine."

"Don't you have a boyfriend … or girlfriend or something?"

"Not right now," Dorothy declared.

"You're a pretty girl. Why not?"

"When I want one, I'll find one. Focusing on other things right now."

"Good for you," Francine said sardonically. "But back to what we're going to do; we can hit Seacrets tonight, but it's still early in the day …"

"We could go to the beach, and hang out."

"Sorry, but you and I are not just "hanging out" Dorothy. If Addi Birol is on the loose, you are laying low. Not only that, there's a chance he may know who I am. Lee wasn't there when it happened, so he probably forgot, but Addi's seen my face. Moreover, he kidnapped your mother prior to the two of them ever meeting face to face."

"He kidnapped my mom? That scumbag!"

"Yeah," Francine agree. "He's a real piece of work. If he could get his hands on you just to get to Lee, he would." Then a rather perverse idea came to Francine, but it was too good not to explore. "Say, I think I know just where you can stay, a place he'd never think to look. Come on—oh, and you're driving."

 **In a warehouse in Frederick, Maryland …**

"I called the phone several times, but all I get is voicemail!"

Majid Boutros looked confused. "Voicemail? It should have just exploded—this number has no voicemail."

Addi's eyes bugged out. "Stetson has tricked us! We must move!"

"The whole operation is in the box truck," Boutros boasted, motioning to the white truck with a twenty foot box section. "We can do it on the move, and when we're done, we can simply park the truck and leave. We have a Suzuki Samurai in the back that we can use to escape!"

Addi's face crinkled in an expression of distaste. "Suzuki Samurai? I can run faster than one of those!"

Majid's eyes flashed with anger. "That SUV was my father's! I sword that when I struck back at the Great Satan, I would use his SUV! This is a matter of personal honor!"

"Will we all fit in it?"

Birol's question caught Majid off guard. "Uh … no?"

"Then only four of us can be in the trailer at the time. Once the bomb is ready, we'll have your men take it to a suitable location, and then they can escape in your father's SUV. I will try to keep the Agency off balance and feed them false leads. May Allah give us victory!"

 **In the agency …**

"Got him," announced Emily, one of the analysts. "Pinpointed him in Frederick off of Church street. I'll send the nav-point to your GPS, Lee. Hey! The idiot even left a message!"

Agent Danton folded her arms, smiling triumphantly, as Lee laughed.

"That was a great plan, Danton," Lee agreed. "Wish I could see his face!"

"Actually," Emily interjected, "we can. We hacked into his phone, and used the camera to get an image!"

She typed on the keyboard, and in a moment, Birol's face, his eyes wide, appeared on screen. They were in a warehouse, and in the background was a white box truck, the doors open, and what Lee was certain was the bomb operation visible in the opening.

"Emily," Lee said, "zero in on the tag. I can't read it—it's filthy, and at an angle. Can you enhance it?"

"Oh, absolutely," Emily boasted. A few clicks of the mouse later, Emily enhanced the tag, and applied a number of filters to it, until she was able to discern the numbers on the plate. "There it is: Pennsylvania, SMK1987!"

Lee and Amanda exchanged glances, and smirked, then looked back at Emily.

"Good work, Emily," Amanda said. "And Alexa—that was a great idea. Now, we've got something." She focused on Lee and Alexa. "Now let's make the most of it."

"Come on, Danton," Lee said. "Let's go catch ourselves a Karbalah cell."

"Don't we need a team to …"

"Amanda will take care of that," Lee said. "We need to move before he moves."

Danton looked at Amanda, who said, "Go, Agent Danton. You'll have back up, trust me."

Danton followed Lee to the garage, where his Corvette awaited. "I know exactly where that is," she offered. "There used to be a taekwondo studio upstairs. I even know a back way in."

Stetson tossed her the keys. "Show me what you can do with seven hundred and fifty horses, Danton.

Her eyes widened. "Scarecrow, this is … your brand new …"

"Cars are meant to be driven, Widow."

"Widow?" she raised an eyebrow at this. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Lee smiled. "Your new codename—like the Avenger."

"Or the sniper rifle in Mass Effect," she replied.

"My daughter loves that game." Lee started to get into the passenger seat of his own car, then stopped. "You coming, Widow?"

Danton smiled, and slid into the driver's seat. "Hang onto your hat, Scarecrow."

The Corvette started with a powerful bark, and Alexa sped out of the garage, the duo speeding to intercept Addi Birol and Karbalah. Lee smiled to himself, pleased that the agency would be in good hands after he and Amanda were both retired.

Meanwhile, in a tattoo parlor in Ocean City …

"Franky," Del said as Francine walked into the shop, Dorothy in tow.

He knew that there was more to his new girlfriend was hiding something about this young woman who had come seeking a place to stay. Francine insisted that the girl was not her daughter, and Del believed her, but there was more to this than just a friend needing a place to stay for a night or two. Looking at Francine, he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"Del, I know we've only been dating a couple of months, and I know this is a huge favor to ask, but …"

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

"Del, you don't even know what I'm going to ask you."

"You need her to stay with me for a couple of days. I don't know what kind of trouble she's in, but if it's for you, yeah, I'll do it."

Francine kissed him. "I owe you bigtime, Del. I … I can't really tell you everything—I wish I could, but …"

"Just do whatever it is you need to do, Franky. We'll talk when it's over."

"Thanks! You're a lifesaver!"

With that, Francine was out the door, leaving a cute, twenty eight year old girl who made a small wave, laughed sheepishly, and said, "Hi."

Francine sped down the road in her new Mustang GT, Francine mentally kicked herself for foisting Dorothy onto Del. She had really taken a chance on dating the more than a decade younger tattoo artist, and was way out of her comfort zone with a man who was not particularly wealthy. So far she really liked him, and thought for sure that he was the one. Francine only hoped that by "We'll talk when it's over," he was not politely alluding to breaking up with her.

Now, she had to make contact with the Agency, and make sure that Addi Birol was not onto her. If he was then Del, Dorothy, and Francine would all be compromised.


	7. Chapter 7

"So, just what do you do?" Del asked as he finished the tracing for Dorothy.

The girl sighed, and replied, "I'm the manager at a Starbucks. My major was in journalism, and I had dreams of becoming a reporter, but it seems like that's a lot harder than just walking into a newspaper with a great story, like Clark Kent did."

Del laughed. "Print media is a dying entity, Dorothy. I wish you luck, but you've got your work cut out for you there."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Might have to switch gears. So, how's it coming?"

"Your tattoo? Haven't started yet. In about thirty seconds though, it's gonna hurt. You sure you're ready for this?"

She nodded. "Yup."

"Alright. Just remember: this was your idea. I don't need Franky getting mad at me over this."

"I don't think she'll care," Dorothy assured. "And unless you plan on dating my still-married mom …"

"Nope."

"You're not going to break up with Francine over this … are you?"

"Nope."

Dorothy let out a sigh of relief. "Thank heaven for that! Say, how'd you two meet, anyway?"

"Bought her a drink at Seacrets," he explained. "Saw her unattached, and couldn't pass up the chance to meet her."

"Yeah," Dorothy agreed. "She is really gorgeous."

"You can say that again. Now, hold still." With that, he began working on the tattoo.

Dorothy winced, but did as she was asked as Del began applying the ink to her ankle. Suddenly, a red light caught her eye, coming from the window.

"Say, kid, do you know any mid-Eastern lookin' guys?"

"No," Dorothy said, closing her eyes to avoid the red light. "Why?"

Del drew a Colt Python from a hip holster and fired it at the window, causing Dorothy to scream. "Dammit, girl—I said to hold still! Call the cops while I finish this—tell-em I shot a guy who was taking aim at you, an' I need 'em to come clean up the mess."

She grabbed her phone, trying to keep her right ankle still, and called nine-one-one. She hoped that there weren't any more gunmen on the premises, and wondered how her parents were faring in tracking down Birol.

 **At an Exxon on Ocean City Gateway …**

Francine had no doubt that she was being followed at this point. The car behind her, a Suzuki Samurai of all things, had followed her at every turn. She pulled into the Exxon under the auspices of getting gasoline, even though she did not really need it. As soon as she was out of her car and holding the gas pump, the mid—eastern men in the Suzuki pulled up, and jumped out, guns drawn.

"Addi Birol would have words with you, Agent Desmond," one of them said. "Come peacefully, and nobody will be hurt."

"Not a chance, dumbass!" Francine squeezed the pump's lever, locking it in place, and spraying the gunmen.

One of them was about to shoot, but their leader shouted, "Stop! You'll blow us to hell!"

Francine took that as her cue, and tossed the pump in the direction of the one who had addressed her, and running as fast as she could from the pumps. Predictably, the trigger-happy one started shooting. Just as she dove for cover behind a parked F-250 just before the gas station blew up. The force of the blast caused the truck to shift, knocking her down. Francine struck her head on the asphalt and lost consciousness, hoping that nobody but Birol's men had died in the blast, and hoping that she had led them away from Dorothy and Del. If not, she hoped that Del could handle himself.

 **A white box truck left the warehouse in Frederick …**

Addi Birol had sent Majid and three of Karbalah's soldiers to apprehend Francine Desmond, who had posed as Magda Petrak thirty years ago. It made Majid feel important, and it got that Suzuki Samurai out of the back of the truck. _What a stupid idea_ , Birol thought as he drove the white truck to its final destination.

Things were not going as planned. Lee Stetson had managed to retrieve Mara Petrak, and somehow, had avoided the myriad of traps that had been put into place to kill him. Stetson, or someone else at the agency, had even managed to hack into Karbalah's phones, prompting them to accelerate their timetable.

As the technicians finished the bomb in the back of the truck, Addi resolutely drove down I-270, his course set. He and the others would die in this mission. It was only proper. For Addi, it was his only chance for redemption. If successful, Karbalah would have accomplished what only Osama Bin Laden had been able to do on September eleventh, sixteen years ago; strike a major blow on American soil. Majid could lead Karbalah into the future, with this great victory to their name, while Addi would be forever enshrined as a martyr to the cause.

 **Back at the tattoo parlor …**

Agency operatives arrived to take custody of a wounded man. The Karbalah terrorist had been hit in the upper chest, and was lucky to be alive. As the agents secured the area, Del continued to work on Dorothy's tattoo.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm alright," Dorothy assured her father over the phone. "Francine's boyfriend shot the guy."

" _We got a report that a gas station blew up_ ," her father replied. " _Francine was found unconscious behind a pickup truck. Apparently, Karbalah sent men to kill her, but she out smarted them, and they blew themselves up, along with the station._ "

"Oh my God—Dad! That's crazy! Was anyone else killed?"

" _Doesn't look like it_ ," Lee said. " _Seems it was early enough in the day that they hadn't hit their busy stride_." Dorothy stifled a cry of pain as Del worked around her ankle, but her father caught it. " _What are you doing, Dorothy? Were you injured?_ "

"No, Dad. I'm getting inked."

"Inked?"

"Tattooed, Dad."

" _Yeah, I know what inked means, young lady. "We'll discuss this later._ "

"It's not your decision, Dad."

" _Oh, I'm not mad_ ," he corrected. " _I just wish you'd have told me you wanted one; I know a brilliant artist. He inked your mom_."

"Mom has a tattoo? Get out! Where—and what?"

" _You can ask her. Just make sure I'm there when you do_."

Dorothy laughed. "Deal. Now go get that nut-job so I can come home."

" _Love you, kid_ ," was all her father said. " _Now stay safe. I'll call you as soon as I can_."

"Love you too, Dad …" She wanted to say more, but her father had already hung up.

"That your dad?' Del asked.

She nodded, now worried about her parents.

"He one of these agency dudes?"

She nodded again, and was about to give verbal confirmation, then remembered that she wasn't supposed to know, and closed her mouth.

"Franky's one of 'em too, aint she?"

"Um … I can't tell you …" Dorothy wanted to kick herself. She was a terrible liar, but her answer all but gave up Francine to Del, who likewise, was not supposed to know.

"Thought so," he replied. "Don't worry, kid; I won't say nothin'. Now hold still."

Somehow, Dorothy believed that Del really would just go on as if nothing had happened. As if Francine were just a retired film maker … or whatever she had told him … and that an international terrorist was just a punk trying to knock over a tattoo parlor for a little extra cash. It made her start to wonder if her parents had met in the agency, or if perhaps one had been brought into the agency after they had met. She resolved to ask them after this was all over.


	8. Chapter 8

Agents were combing the area for the white truck, which was unfortunately, a commonplace vehicle. Still, they found it readily enough, and when the mid-eastern driver and passenger stepped out of the cab, and three mid-eastern men and two women stepped out of the back, all with their hands up, it seemed as though the threat had been ended. When Lee and Alexa Danton arrived, however, they found that the truck was empty, and that none of the terrorists were Addi Birol.

"We've been made," Lee spat in frustration. "Right tag, right truck, but wrong target."

"He must have switched trucks when he realized his bomb didn't go off," Agent Danton noted.

"Yeah, but he's still got the bomb," Lee said. "We can use all that fancy satellite stuff to find radiation signatures."

"Provided the satellites are positioned correctly," Alex clarified. "Though as populous as this area is, and as much as we keep it under watch, I don't think that should be an issue."

"Get on it, Alex," Lee commanded. "I'll try to extrapolate a destination. He's not just trying to set off the bomb—he wants to make a statement."

"You don't think the bomb is finished, do you?"

"Probably is," Lee said with a sigh. "They've been at it for more than a week. Mara Petrak, Francine—they were all just distractions. Birol is probably driving that truck. He means to set off the bomb himself and become a martyr in the process; that I'm sure of."

"Not on our watch," Alex declared.

"Definitely not," Lee agreed.

 **In a stolen UPS truck …**

Addi Birol had switched trucks as soon as they entered Montgomery County, and then sent seven of Karbalah's soldiers out in the white truck as a decoy. In back of the UPS truck was the scientist who worked feverishly finishing the bomb. Birol was certain that she was nearly done.

"It is ready, Addi," the scientist called from the back of the truck.

"Good," Birol replied, bringing the truck to a stop at a traffic light. "Now go. I will deliver our vengeance and be martyred."

She emerged from the back of the truck to join him in the passenger seat. "I will die with you, Addi. It will be my honor to give my life to the cause."

Addi's heart swelled with pride. If only there were more like her, willing to die for the cause, rejecting the soft, American life of the west.

"Praise be to Allah," he exclaimed as the light turned green. Now on Wisconsin Avenue, they would arrive at their target in less than a half an hour. Then, America would reap Karbalah's vengeance at last. He never noticed the watchful traffic cams, perched like sentinels on the signals.

 **Lee's Corvette sped down I-270 …**

… a light attached to the roof signaling people to give him a wide berth. He slowed from triple digits, and exited onto Wisconsin Avenue, following the GPS signal. Amanda had gotten on it as soon as Alex called, and they had indeed found Birol's truck. Satellite images and traffic cam footage revealed Addi Birol and a woman identified as Doctor Azmina Kader, a nuclear physicist who had been on several watch lists since the second Gulf War.

"The police are doing their best to evacuate surrounding areas without alerting Birol, but we need to get there fast," Alex announced.

"Going as fast as the road will allow," Lee groused as he blew through an intersection at over ninety. "Won't do us any good if I get us killed on the way. Do we have any agents in the area?"

"Three," Alex replied. "Just got a text—they've boxed him in with a faux traffic accident. And Scarecrow, they're just inside Bethesda—right at Jones Bridge and Wisconsin!"

Lee grinned, and pressed the accelerator to the floor, the car in third gear. "Hold tight, Widow."

With that, Lee began weaving in and out of traffic, bringing the car up to a hundred and fifteen. In moments, the box truck was within sight, an old Yugo behind it, its blinkers on. Suddenly, the Yugo bucked as UPS truck backed up, knocking the car out of the way and turning sharply to the left, exposing its right side to Lee and Alex. For a moment, the driver was visible.

"It's Birol," he shouted.

Agent Danton stood up through the car's open roof and took aim with her pistol. "I have a shot on the passenger!"

"Take it," Lee barked.

With a loud crack, Alex fired her Glock, and the woman's head exploded in a shower of blood and brains, spraying Birol. Lee had a clear view of Birol now, his eyes wide. Lee quickly pulled up in front of the truck, blocking its path forward. Before Birol could get the truck moving, Lee fired six shots through the truck's windshield, each striking Birol in the face.

Danton jumped from the car, running to the truck, and placing it in park. "Truck is secured!" She went into the cargo compartment for a moment, and then reemerged. "Bomb is active! We have less than fifteen minutes before it goes off!"

Lee jumped from the car and went into the truck himself. The bomb was an improvised rig, looking like something from the cold war, with an old school detonator.

"Clear everyone out, Danton. I got this, but just in case …"

Alex's eyes went wide. "That's a nuclear bomb, Scarecrow!"

"And we can't waste any time. Not the first bomb I've disarmed, and this is Cold War era tech. Go!"

Danton nodded as Lee got to work. The timer was counting down, and Lee had way too many wires to choose from. He took a deep breath, and then began eliminating the obvious red herrings before zeroing in on the likely suspects. Thankfully, he actually had a decent amount of time.

Danton, in the meantime, called Amanda. "Mrs. Stetson, Scarecrow is disarming the bomb, but … we need the area evacuated just in case!"

" _Lee's doing what?"_

The section chief's gasped question caught Alex off guard. "He said he's done this before. Should I stop him?"

"He has … it's just … Agent Danton, follow protocols, and seal off the area. I'll coordinate with local agencies from here. No point in you trying to run; you'll never get far enough to outrun it."

Danton gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

Lee cut the wire, certain that it would stop the countdown. Instead, the timer sped up. He made an exasperated sigh, saying, "Unbelievable." This was not going as well as he thought it would. Clearly, Doctor Kader knew her stuff, and the bomb, though not high tech, was maddeningly difficult to disarm. While it would not level the city, the blast would probably take out a few blocks, and worse, it would irradiate everything around it for miles. Lee, of course, would be killed instantly.

"Not gonna happen," he said aloud. He pulled the picture of Amanda and Dorothy that he kept in his wallet from its sleeve, and placed it on the bomb, and redoubled his efforts.

"How's it going, Scarecrow?" Danton's voice.

"Still here?"

"Can't out run it, Scarecrow," she noted. "May as well help out if I can."

There was really nothing she could do. No point in sending her away; if he was not successful, at least he knew he would not hear about it later.

"Take notes. If we survive this, you might need to do this in the future."

She pulled out her smartphone and began recording. He wished she had not, but could not fault her for doing what he asked.

"Down to two wires," he announced. "If I cut the wrong one, we die."

"So … fifty/fifty chance of survival." She shrugged. "I've had worse odds on lighter missions."

"If you're the praying sort, do it now." With that, he cut the wire that he hoped would disarm the bomb. The timer stopped, and he let out a sigh of relief, collapsing against the side of the truck. "If I had any dark hair left, it's gray now."

Danton laughed, flouncing back beside him. She did not say anything, which he appreciated. A few moments of quiet were a necessity. Lee took the picture and kissed it before replacing it in his wallet.

" _Lee!_ " It was Amanda's voice in his earpiece. " _Lee, what's the status?_ "

"Bomb disarmed," he declared. "Birol is dead. So is Kader. It's over, Amanda."

" _You had me scared there for a moment, Lee. Return to base with Agent Danton for debriefing. Oh, and Lee? I love you_."

"I love you too, Amanda. Scarecrow out." Lee then turned to Alex. "Soon as we're debriefed, I'm back on vacation. You've really proven yourself, Danton."

"Thank you, Scarecrow. That means a lot—not something I expected to be saying back when we were first teamed up."

Lee smiled. "Couldn't have done this one without you, Alex. You're a hell of an agent."

She waved him off. "Yeah, you could have, but thanks for saying it." Danton cocked her head to one side, and asked, "Lee, with you retiring, would it bother you if I took your codename?"

"What? You don't like Widow?"

"I do … but I think there should always be a Scarecrow."

He thought about it for a moment, and then chuckled. "You know, back before we encountered Addi Birol, Amanda and I were on another mission, and our quarry thought she was the Scarecrow. We took him down, and he was utterly convinced that Scarecrow was a woman."

"She can be," Alex said.

Lee stood, and offered her a hand. "She is. Now, let's get back to the nest."

Lee smiled to himself as he helped the younger agent up from the floor. The torch was now passed. He could finally leave this life behind and focus on Amanda. He would miss it, no doubt, but he was ready to move on. It was a good end to his tenure, and a good beginning for his successor.


	9. Chapter 9

Having read the reports, Amanda closed the windows on her computer, just as Lee and Alexa walked into her office. She smiled, pleased that no agents had died. Sadly, it turned out that Birol had killed the driver of the U.P.S. truck he had stolen, and some civilians had been killed in the gas station explosion … but it could have been worse. Much worse. Dorothy was safe, Francine had suffered only a concussion and minor injuries, and Mara Petrak was recovering nicely. Even property damage had been kept to a minimum, with the only real casualty being the gas station, but thankfully, no active agents were involved in that.

"I've read your reports," Amanda opened. "Nice work all around. If it weren't for your retirement, Lee, I'd recommend the two of you continue working together." Amanda stood and shook their hands. "Thanks to your work, what would have been the worst terrorist attack since 9/11 was averted. All Karbalah members have been apprehended or have been killed, and Addi Birol has received the fate he richly deserved." She grinned, adding, "The president even called to thank us personally."

"While it's good to be appreciated," Lee remarked, "Hopefully, this won't inspire any attempts to finish the job."

Amanda nodded. "Thankfully, it seems that they kept their plans to themselves. We've gone through their computers, and from what we can tell, they were planning on using this attack to announce Karbalah's return. They didn't make any announcements before hand—failure doesn't make for great boasts."

"No, but you can be sure that martyrdom does," Danton countered.

"We're trying to keep this quiet, but yes, Agent Danton, Birol will be viewed as a martyr for their twisted cause. Now …" Amanda paused, looking over at her door, which opened as if on cue. Francine Desmond walked in, nodding to Lee as she entered. "Agent Danton, this is Francine Desmond." Amanda looked back at her husband. "Lee, I think it's time we retire together. I've been in talks with the people upstairs, and …"

"And I'm going to be your section chief," Francine announced.

Lee looked quizzically at Amanda, who smiled and shrugged.

"I hated not seeing you all week, Lee. I've served my country, both as an agent, and as section chief. It's been a great, great career. But now, I want that second honeymoon we talked about." Amanda shrugged again. "What can I say? I just couldn't wait any longer." She looked back at Francine. "Lee and I owe you and your man, Del, a personal debt as well. Thank you for keeping our daughter safe."

"Oh, it was nothing," Francine said with a smug smile. "And don't worry; we gave her a little something to remember this by."

"And just how is your possible future Mister Desmond," Lee asked.

"Doing well. He figured out that I was some kind of agent, but didn't press for details." Then Francine added, "though he probably knows less than your daughter."

Amanda giggled. "Yes, well, it all worked out. How does he feel about leaving Ocean City?"

"We talked about it," Francine replied. "He has a friend who's wanted to buy the tattoo parlor for years. Turns out, the man got a bank loan. Del's going to sell it, earning him a pretty penny. He's taking over a shop up in Gaithersburg for another friend."

"All's well that ends well," Amanda declared. "Francine, meet Agent Danton, the new Scarecrow."

Danton extended her hand, beaming at Amanda's announcement. "Pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."

Francine shook the younger woman's hand. "Lee tells me you're the new top agent."

"Doing my best, Ma'am."

"I read your file," Francine responded. "Impressive work, particularly this last mission." She then looked to Amanda who handed Agent Danton a manila envelope.

"Details are inside, Scarecrow, and I think this one will be right up your alley."

Danton smiled. "Yes, Ma'am!"

 **Later, at 4247 Maplewood Avenue …**

Lee and Amanda snuggled together on one end of the sofa, while Dorothy sat at the other end, the movie, True Lies having just ended.

"Dad, did you ever fly a Harrier plane?"

"Spy work seldom looks anything like that, Dorothy," Lee said. "I've flown planes and helicopters, but never a Harrier."

"That movie's a parody anyway," Amanda noted.

Lee laughed. "Sad thing is, it was probably more accurate than the Bond films, especially the current run."

Dorothy crinkled her nose. "I don't like James Bond."

"Yeah," Amanda agreed. "After Roger Moore, it all went downhill."

"No," Dorothy corrected. "I don't like any of them."

Amanda looked mortified at the thought, but Lee just shrugged. "Can't fault you there."

"So, who are your favorite spies then?" Amanda asked, sitting up slightly.

"Duh," Dorothy said in mock exasperation. "You and dad!"

"That's my girl," Lee praised. "Now, don't you have a date, young lady?"

Dorothy nodded as she stood. "I do, so I'll leave you two lovebirds alone for a few hours. Ta-ta."

"Have fun," Amanda encouraged.

"Just … not _too_ much fun," Lee added.

"Bye dad," Dorothy called as she left.

Moments later, the sound of Lee's old Corvette starting and leaving the driveway told them that they were finally alone. It was the first night of their retirement together, and they had the rest of their lives ahead of them.

"Thought she'd never leave," Amanda observed. "So, Addi Birol is dead, Karbalah is dead, we've both retired, and our daughter is out on a date. Celebration?"

Lee kissed her. "Celebration." He stood, and went to the kitchen, returning moments later with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. "Dom Perignon.

He popped the cork for his grinning wife, and poured a glass for each of them, and then joined her on the sofa again.

"To us, my love."

She clinked her glass to his. "To us."

They drank their Champagne, kissing between sips, until at last, the glasses were empty. Amanda leaned back, her arms around her husband, kissing him as he began to open her robe.

"Lee, this is … "

She was about to say 'wonderful,' but Lee finished for her.

"Just a prelude." He reached behind the sofa, and produced two plane tickets. "We're spending two weeks in Paris."

"Oh, Lee!" Amanda kissed him hungrily as Lee used his phone to dim the lights. "I love you."

"I love you, Amanda. You deserve a second honeymoon."

She giggled. "I do, don't I? Now … where were we?"

"Right here." Lee slid her robe off of her shoulders, and with that, they picked up where they left off, finally enjoying their happily ever after.

 **Speeding down the road with the targa roof out …**

… Dorothy noticed a cassette tape in the radio, with the words, "Play me" written in Sharpie on the edge. She pushed it into the radio, thinking perhaps her dad had made a mix tape for her, like Starlord's mom had in Guardians of the galaxy. Instead, it was her father's voice.

"Now that the car is yours, you need to remember that this was a spy's car. You already know that it's fast and handles like a race car. It can do other things that we can go over tomorrow, but one feature you'll want to take advantage of is in the center console. Now, have fun on your date—oh, and you can thank James Bond for this one."

Dorothy opened the center console, and a hiss of cold air escaped. Inside was a bottle of Champagne, kept cold by the console's built in cooler.

"This is awesome!"

She downshifted, and pressed the accelerator down, the cool night air blowing through her hair as she sped to meet her own love …

But that is another story.

 **The End**


End file.
